


Winter

by elephant_eyelash



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Gift Fic, Purple Prose, Stupid flowery prose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-05
Updated: 2012-12-05
Packaged: 2017-11-20 08:22:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/583248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elephant_eyelash/pseuds/elephant_eyelash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A giftfic for Daria (tumblr user sabotensan) based on her wonderful Rickon/Shireen fanart, "Winter".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Winter

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by ["Winter"](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/14122) by sabotensan. 



There was music she could hear somewhere, nowhere.

At the Wall things stretched on forever. There was no end to things- to the cold, the ice, the hunger. But more than anything, the white consumed. And it all managed to synchronise somehow. The fractures became even in her mind— the crack in the stone by her bed where her hands could fit, the charred skeletons of outposts arranged erratically in the distance.

Even him. Even he, in all his unpredictability, became predictable. They waited for each other in their silent spots, the places no-one knew, or ones discovered as a child but had then forgotten (but not them). She watched him awhile as the breeze stirred the fur of his cloak, the tips of his hair. He looked peaceful amidst everything, like a ghost who wandered freely and only she could see with absolute, cold clarity.

He could hear the crunch of snow as she stood beside him. He kept his eyes focussed on the distance of the horizon, illuminated only by the moon. In the distance Shaggy cried.

“A catch?”

He could feel it in his mouth, metallic and sticky. “Rabbit.”

“I haven’t had rabbit in years.” Shireen sighed.

“Want him to bring it back?”

“No, he should have it. I eat well enough.” She said. She didn’t want to see Shaggy’s sad eyes as he passed the carcass over to her. Everyone was thin enough here, she couldn’t stand to see Shaggy suffer even more than he was.

They were silent for a long time, both watching the slow descent of snow. In both their minds they thought of old, imagined, ruined Winterfell. Rickon remembered the whipping of the snow against his window, and Shireen thought of that young boy playing in the whiteness, pieced together from fragments of conversations with the Lost Prince on the Wall.

A strong wind rushed past them. Shireen sucked in a breath and winced.

“You’ll catch a cold.” He said. He turned towards her, wrapping her shawl even tighter around her shoulders. She studied his face for what seemed like the hundredth time, memorising every imperfection, every complexity she could register. And with it; with this knowledge he was not repulsed, and that she knew him, knew it all; as always, she felt daring.

“Keep we warm then, if you fear my Father’s anger.” She said, so softly it seemed to die before she said it. But he heard, like he always heard her, whether she spoke or not.

He pulled her towards him, their cheeks wet with snow.


End file.
